


You Make Me Take Risks

by heyimflamel



Category: Soul Eater
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Brief Pining, Character Study, Crushes, Developing Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Happy Ending, Kinda, M/M, Pining, Relationship Study, Requited Love, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Snow, Snowball Fight, Sweet, Symmetry, Symmetry as Metaphors, asymmetry, fast burn, if such a thing exists
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 18:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29318466
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heyimflamel/pseuds/heyimflamel
Summary: Kidd strives for perfection, and perfection is symmetry.Soul is unapologetically asymmetrical.
Relationships: Death the Kid/Soul Eater Evans
Comments: 3
Kudos: 24





	You Make Me Take Risks

Usually, Kidd's bed partners (because dating is tiring and no one is perfect for long. No one can handle him and his obsessive nature for long) are pretty men; conventionally nice looking men who look, of course, symmetrical, with evenly spaced eyes and the same contours defining sharp and soft shapes on both sides of their faces. They wear nice clothes, their smiles are pretty enough and they tend to have slicked back hair to match with Kidd's perfectly pressed suits and expensive rings.

Soul is nothing like that.

There's a certain unevenness to his jaw that makes Kidd's fingers twitch at his sides. His nose is crooked to one side and one of his eyes is just slightly more slanted downward. Soul's mouth is stretched into a lopsided grin, more often than not, and it reveals pointy teeth like a shark's, some blunted and some ready to cut and tear at the slightest provocation.

His platinum blonde hair is messy, fluffy with self-cut layers that hurt to look at. It's highlighted by his thick headband, as asymmetrical as its owner. Only one of his ears is pierced with a small black cross. It's off-kilter, pointing toward his jaw rather than straight downward. Even Soul's clothes are asymmetrical. His signature jacket has patches and badges all over it, some for style and others to hide rips and holes. His jeans are hand-me-downs with patches on the fronts and backs of both legs but never in the same spots. He usually wears a chain on one side, the hardware store kind with carabiner clips on either end, hanging from belt loops.

Kidd hates everything about it. He hates everything about Soul—he hates the asymmetry. It makes him pluck his hair and fiddle with his rings and it makes him want to reach out and fix anything about Soul that isn't up to his standards. The hair, for one, is preposterous and he really should get some more _symmetrical_ clothes than the ones he owns.

He hates it because Soul is funny, and witty, and he has the type of intelligence-based humour that makes Kidd snort unattractively on impulse. Kidd hates it because Soul is interesting and he's the type of asshole that Kidd would have asked out on a date within the first few meetings, but aesthetic-wise... Well. Kidd wants to avoid him like the Black Death but he also wants to snap his nose straight and get him a makeover so that he's up to par with Kidd's standards.

Soul seems to know exactly the effect he has on Kidd and exploits it as much as humanly possible. He purposefully goes out of his way to annoy Kidd as much as possible, even going as far as pester him long after the others in their friend group have gone home. This is a surprisingly minor inconvenience (to both).

Normally, such blatant asymmetry would have Kidd panicking in an instant, worrying over every aspect of his life. Had he checked the painting hanging in the living room that morning? Were the ornate vases in his room still perfectly centred? Was his bed still centred in his room? Strangely, this wasn't true for Soul's unfixable asymmetry. If anything, it just made him want to force hair gel onto the platinum blonde. And a suit. And maybe some face tape.

This... this became a thing. Soul poking and prodding at Kidd just to get a reaction became hanging out together, walking the streets and bickering over something or the other. Hard jibes and fierce ribbing became inside jokes, against all odds; something to reference and laugh and roll eyes at with a secretive smirk.

At the end of the school-day, Liz and Patty ask questions on the way home while Kidd deflects them all with practiced ease. Maka and Black Star interrogate Soul ruthlessly while Tsubaki trails behind, watching and smiling knowingly. Soul laughs it off or snickers loudly, because everything about him was loud and bold and dripping in sarcasm even if people forgot that when he was with Black Star, who was as obnoxious and loud as Tsubaki was reserved and timid.

It became a new normal. More often than not, if someone wants to find Soul they go to Kidd first and vice versa. They get handed work the other's missed in school if they don't attend class, and despite Soul's naturally mischievous nature, it's Kidd who is skipping school like rebellion is back in fashion and not the other way around. Soul, all too familiar with Kidd's peculiar and more eccentric habits, delivers it dutifully and doesn't ask questions. Though the evidence points to the contrary, they're not close like that.

Black Star and Soul have a falling out that is explosive and inevitable, with how much Soul has been stuck to Kidd's side and how prone to jealousy Black Star was. It is something everyone seemed to know was coming, except for Soul and Kidd, and maybe Black Star himself. There are accusations thrown left and right, there's screaming that could wake the dead and the fallout is so bad that Black Star has to be held back by Tsubaki and Maka while Kidd drags Soul away. There's purple blooming on Soul's cheek, which makes Kidd tut about asymmetry, and Black Star's nose has a bandage across it for weeks. When they make up, it's emotional and they hug for seven minutes straight.

Later, Kidd complains (whines, really, but he is the heir to an influential company and he does _not whine_ ) that they only needed to hug for ten-point-six-two seconds longer to make it a perfect eight minutes. Soul laughs, boisterous and boyish, into his ear. He can't bring himself to mind, especially when it's the first laugh Soul's had since the blow-up. Instead, Kidd rolls his eyes and traces the back of his cold knuckles down the yellow-green blemish healing on Soul's cheek.

There are two good months of nothing between them, where Soul and Kidd can't walk around town aimlessly because everyone is studying for tests in the winter. Black Star takes up all of Soul's time in the day, and Maka makes Soul slave away at textbooks until he remembers everything to a 't'. This doesn't mean communication stops, though. Their call logs list hours upon hours of late-night conversations they would rather keep secret, locked tight and forever frozen at 3am when lines blur and tiredness seeps into their voices.

Kidd learns that Soul's a foster kid. He wasn't, always. His family was rich and influential, and he was taught how to play the piano and what cutlery to use for what meals at fancy dinner parties. His father was busted for something or the other, and Soul was taken away. All he has is what he could scrounge up at any given moment, from any foster family he had. He still has marks on his wrists from cigarettes when the families were less nice and less forgiving. Kidd wants to rip off all of the bracelets he wears to cover them and see it for himself, out of righteous rage if nothing else.

Soul learns that Kidd's an only child who raised himself. Maids and servants flocked around him in a suffocating dance, and the routine was upheld strictly. No matter how closely guarded Kidd was, he was never touched. It was fine. He didn't need touch. He had symmetry and routine to latch onto instead. His father, jovial and cheery as he is, is also the CEO and owner of a family company and was absent. Still is largely absent. Kidd is expected to take over the company after him, and it suits him just as well—business and economics are fascinating, and it makes sense. It is something predictable. Soul wants to reach out through the phone line and touch, and hug, and he wishes he could grab a single second alone with Kidd.

They don't talk about it.

They do talk about the exams. They talk about Liz's laid-back attitude and Patty's happy-go-lucky nature. They talk about Black Star's inability to focus and Tsubaki's saintly patience. They talk about Maka's authoritarian studying regimen. They talk about where they should go after the exam buzz is over; a new coffee shop opened around the corner, and there was a homely bistro they hadn't had the chance to go to yet. The unspoken _"just us"_ hung in the air, caught in the signal between their phones along with a hundred and one other things they don't address.

Sometimes, there's the library, where Kidd and Soul study together for the exams alone even though Kidd is a business major and Soul is in music production. It's rare that they do come together in the library, because Soul is loud and brash and Kidd finds imperfections everywhere he looks to the point of feeling nauseous. There is one time, a month away from their last exam that year, where they come together to study. Companionship lay over their shoulders like a cape, as do contentment and relief and stress.

Kidd is wearing a suit, because of course he is, with only his forearms settled on their table. His back is pin-straight and his legs are spaced evenly. Soul is sprawled across his chair with one foot tucked up on the seat, knee to his chest. His headband is on the table, long abandoned like his jacket which he draped on the back of the chair as soon as he sat down.

They spend hours together there, silent. Soul makes a funny face at his textbook and smears bright blue highlighter along Kidd's cheek and jaw and, on the opposite side, his brow and temple. Kidd looks disgusted, and Soul chortles, even as parts of his hair are stained pink and the librarian shushes them more than thrice. Blue and pink and yellow stain Soul's notes in large, chunky blocks. Kidd's notes are written out neatly. Soul manages to distract himself with everything and procrastinates his studying as if it is an Olympic sport. Kidd tolerates it, until he doesn't, and then their thighs are flush because whispering aggressively across the table would not be wise when the librarian is already side-eyeing them every few minutes.

When Kidd almost hyperventilates over an unevenly highlighted line on his fifth page of notes, Soul covers Kidd's hands with his and presses their foreheads together, whispering platitudes that miraculously work. When Soul's eyes blur the letters and lines together and his hands pull painfully at his hair, Kidd flicks his ear or massages his neck with one hand, dutifully reading out the information until Soul tells him to move onto the next paragraph. It works, somewhat.

There is a moment where Kidd runs his hand through Soul's hair with the intention to fix it and make it easier on his eyes. Neither mention it when he doesn't. There is another moment where Soul grabs Kidd's chin and moves his face this way and that, rubbing off the highlighter with surprising tenderness. He leaves one mark, down Kidd's jaw, and mirrors it on the other side. They don't mention that either.

By the time they left, the librarian's banned them from being there together for being "too rowdy" and "disruptive" even though there were only two other students there that day. Kidd's jaw, neck and arms have multicoloured smears and Soul has green, blue and pink stripes in his hair.

The phone calls drop off completely during exam week. Kidd walks around with at least two binders always, one in each arm, and Soul power naps during lunch instead of eating to balance out his all-nighters. That weekend, the two don't leave each other's sides for a second. They walk around, talk in the old playground, visit that coffee place and bicker like they did before exams, like nothing had changed. Like those 3am calls were lucid dreams and like the study session was just another thing they did. Maybe it was, now. Maybe.

Maka, Tsubaki and the rest of the group go to karaoke. Soul and Kidd join them midway through the night when the others are delightfully tipsy while they're still stone-cold sober. They each sing through a random order they must have decided many rounds ago, with Maka's loud rendition of some punk rock song starting them off while the bass blows their eardrums. Black Star sings a classic pop song from some years ago with a tear in his eye, though whether it was from the song or the bourbon he spilt all over himself was up to debate. Tsubaki sang a lovely, traditional lullaby with slurred vowels and sleepy eyes. Patty had chosen a peppy, upbeat song while Liz had forgone the karaoke booth's options entirely and sang an off-key rendition of Sea Shanty.

Soul laughs and laughs all night long, elbowing Black Star who elbows him back and giggles drunkenly. The platinum blonde stands up and walks over to choose his song, because he's the second-to-last in the new karaoke order with Kidd going after him. He had shucked off his coat by then, and his mussed hair curled around his neck and over his ears, hiding them. He should get a haircut soon. His hair is becoming a mop on his head and creeping down his neck. It suits him.

Kidd happens to look over, like he has many times throughout the night at the others when they stepped up to grab the mic, and felt like his breath had been punched out. Pink and blue and orange lights blended together on Soul's skin, highlighting his features and creating purple and red where the lights met and merged. They highlighted the asymmetry of his face, like the windswept locks sticking to his damp forehead and neck and the crooked nose and the uneven grin made of little pointy teeth.

Kidd has never seen anything more gorgeous in his life. And, well, that might be a problem.

Usually, Kidd's bed partners (because facial symmetry and a decent personality are hard to find in conjunction, and he has no time for a relationship) are pretty men; conventionally nice looking men who look, of course, symmetrical, with evenly spaced eyes and the same contours defining sharp and soft shapes on both sides of their faces. They wear nice clothes, their smiles are pretty enough and they tend to have slicked back hair to match with Kidd's perfectly pressed suits and expensive rings.

Soul is nothing like that.

He is unapologetically asymmetrical in everything that he does and everything that he is. He refuses to get braces because his teeth aren't that bad, they're just not as straight as they could be, and some of his teeth have a slight overbite that doesn't bother him. He wears his shoes and jeans, shirts and hoodies and jackets to death until they're so threadbare they're barely together. He keeps unusable clothes to patch up ones that have a few more years in them.

Soul doesn't care that his nose isn't straight and that it leans to one side more than the other. He doesn't really care if his jaw is the same on both sides, or how his eyes look, and it doesn't matter to him whether people find him attractive or not. Soul spent far too long trying to please people in his life and he wasn't about to restart that path after burning it down with his own two hands.

But. Soul is also smart in ways other people don't see often. He loves pulling tricks, and he's one of the laziest people Kidd has ever met. He's brash and bold and loud and the only person more obnoxious than him is Black Star. Kidd thinks that Soul might have as much tact as a young child sometimes. Then, Soul does something unexpected, like rubbing highlighter off Kidd's face or staying up on late-night calls or calming Kidd down from the brink of a breakdown, and Kidd wonders. He wonders how much of Soul is what he wants others to see.

He wants to pull the whole thing down.

For now, though, he listens to Soul's voice carry through the room and watches the lights flick around his face, looking like something out of Kidd's most wondrous dreams.

\------

When he gets home that night, he starts planning. There's two months until Valentine's and absolutely no time to waste. Kidd strives for perfection every time, and perfection is the standard. With Liz and Patty passed out in their own rooms, no one was there to stop him. A preferable scenario.

Kidd looks up ideas on the internet. He jots down ideas on a notepad app on his laptop, because writing it out by hand will take far too long for him. The notepad fills with notes quicker than anticipated. It is something that takes all of Kidd's attention that night, and when the sun rises, that morning as well. There are so many options to choose from: picnics, fancy dinners, coffee dates, aquariums and zoos and sanctuaries to consider and restaurants to scrutinise.

Liz wakes up and makes coffee. Black, for herself, and with cream for Kidd. He doesn't so much as blink. This continues for days, and then another half-day because Soul drags him out of the house and out to a playground blanketed in snow.

The white of the snow blends into Soul's hair. It's stark against his fading tan, which is strange, because Kidd remembers Soul's skin being shades darker and warmer just a few months ago. They sit on the bench in the park and talk about everything and nothing. It's routine, and normal, and Kidd can't help but marvel at the outline of Soul's profile as if seeing it for the first time. More snow begins to fall from a white sky. It lands delicately on Kidd's deep black hair, along the horizontal white stripes he let Liz put into his hair at the beginning of summer last year. It lands on their clothes, and on Soul's tongue when he sticks it out, and on Kidd's rings.

The peace doesn't last long, as usual. Soul grins cheekily at him before throwing a snowball. Kidd huffs and puffs and is pelted by more snowballs before he finally gives in and makes snowballs to throw back. Soul whoops, until he slips face-first on ice. Kidd bursts out laughing so hard he has to brace himself on his knees, struggling to catch his breath as the scene plays through his head on loop. Soul tries to pout, but ends up laughing alongside him.

It's nearing sunset by the time they finish horsing around. Their backs are soaked with snow, but they lay down on a slanted hill anyway. Soul throws an arm up over his head. Rouge red spots sit high up on his cheeks and on the rounded tip of his nose, the same colour lighting up his fingertips. Kidd's entire cheeks are a blotchy, hot pink and his nose is the same. His fingers are stiff and numb at his sides but he doesn't care much for it when Soul's mouth is tugged up into a smile and his breath swirls in the air.

Kidd links their pinkies together at their sides, and Soul curls them tighter. They don't talk about it. Instead, Soul talks about the newest manga he's picked up from the charity shop next to their school. Kidd listens, and when their limbs freeze up, they both get up and walk around even though the back of their pants and coats are dark with moisture.

When Kidd straightens out Soul's coat, tugging and adjusting the collar of his jacket under it, Soul rolls his eyes but makes no move to stop him. When Soul ruffles Kidd's hair just to piss him off, Kidd lets him and fixes it in the window of a random shop they pass by. Soul snickers, tugging him along by his wrist. It's midnight when he walks Soul home. He lets his cold knuckles graze the blonde's cheek before he leaves.

School starts back up and Kidd continues to research. He narrowed his search down to ten places, four gifts and two possible outfits for himself. Soul drags him out of his house every now and again as needed, or whenever he opens Liz's annoyed voicemails. Kidd appreciates it, but despises it at the same time.

He loves symmetry. His fingers itch every time he sees something that isn't symmetrical, and he had a breakdown over the mirror in his bathroom just last week. That has not changed. Whenever he sees asymmetry, he has to fix it. Kidd still spends hours in front of the mirror fixing his hair and his clothes, and he spends long moments sliding his rings around and up and down his fingers to make sure they look the same on both hands. Kidd still skips classes if he does not arrive at exactly the right time. He still worships the number eight like it was the answer to every question he's ever had.

He still wants to take Soul out on a date. He still wants to smooth his fingers down Soul's face and map out the contours, and he still wants to maybe kiss him. Possibly.

Soul is an anomaly. He is everything Kidd wishes he could control, everything he wishes did not exist because perfection was the standard and symmetry was perfect—asymmetry was imperfect, and Soul was asymmetry. He was a break in the routine, a skip in the record of Kidd's life. Somehow, asymmetry belongs on Soul. Somehow, asymmetry may not be so bad on Soul.

Asymmetry is dangerous, because anything less than perfect is worthless and a failure and a mistake. But, Soul is not a mistake. He is unapologetic, and stunning, and he pleases himself before he even begins to think about pleasing anybody else. Kidd is not a risk-taker, but with Soul he thinks he might be.

He constructs the perfect date. He plans every second of it, from the time they leave school to the time he walks Soul home. He plans a picnic, because Soul is uncomfortable with suit and tie affairs and Kidd doesn't need to impress him. He plans a visit to a puppy adoption centre, because they let you play with the puppies and though Kidd prefers the undemanding company of a feline, Soul loves dogs of all shapes and sizes.

There's a soft, big, cosy varsity-style jacket with a hood folded neatly on his desk. It's thick, too, and there's a badge sewn onto each bicep. One is of a little cartoony, stylised self-portrait Soul embroidered onto his current jacket while the other is a little self-portrait Kidd did of himself in the same style. One, bright and bold, while the other remains monochromatic. The asymmetry makes his fingers twitch, but then he imagines Soul wearing it, and the feeling fades.

Kidd's plan was simple. Step one, bring the jacket to school. Step two, find Soul and give him the jacket. Step three, ask him on a date. If he says yes, go on said date after school. What actually happened, though, was this:

Kidd walked into school with the jacket folded in both hands. Soul was talking to Black Star about something, and when he noticed Kidd, his smirk widened into a heart-stopping grin. Kidd strode over there and decided that he was already taking a risk, so he might as well take another.

With the jacket tossed to Tsubaki (who always trailed after Black Star, and was always the more responsible option), Kidd cupped Soul's face in his hands and leant down. Kidd may be a tad taller, longer, but Soul was a tad broader, sturdier from sports. Nothing felt more rewarding than feeling Soul's stupid grin stretch against his lips, two hands bracketing his waist and the warmth of Soul's skin beneath his cold palms.

**Author's Note:**

> finally, a fic that isn't 10k+ words long ;-;  
> i had fun playing around with soul and kidd tho i think this is more fast-paced than some of my other works... i usually like to flesh stuff out a bit more but im p happy with this fic  
> its just fluffy asf man idk
> 
> comments/reviews are much appreciated :))


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